


On Stage

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [31]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Collars, Exhibitionism, M/M, Spanking, Tessera, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-15
Updated: 2011-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 30: Exhibitionism.  We revisit the BDSM club and Sammy’s little exhibitionist streak...</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Stage

**Author's Note:**

> Mistress Tess and the club Tessera are my original creations, borrowed from a novel I have written, and I hold copyright to them.
> 
> Disclaimer: Please also note that the use of 'Mistress Tess' is a nickname for my character, and the character is in no way related to, or any representation of the actual Mistress Tess, who I have learned is a beautiful, well respected dominatrix who I had NO idea existed when I conceived of the character a decade ago. :) I'd love to meet her someday.
> 
> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. And kink. Here’s a side of kink. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment. AU in that I refuse to admit the death of John Winchester.

Dean’s the exhibitionist. Not Sam. Which makes the situation they’re in particularly twisted. Sam begged to go back to the BDSM club they were at earlier in the year, as they’re passing through again, whispering to Dean that giving a blow job in a room full of people made him hotter than he can stand, and he wants to do it again. Dean chuckles, and agrees.

“Go get your collar, Sammy.” He watches indulgently as Sam digs in his bag for the collar, which he hasn’t worn in a few weeks. The boy brings it back to him, kneels, looking up shyly.

“Thank you.” Dean buckles the collar on Sam, and kisses the insides of his wrists and ankles before buckling the cuffs on. “Rules. You don’t speak or act on your own unless it’s a safeword, or you’re touching my shoulder because you need something. Safeword?”

“Panic.”

“You stay with me at all times, and you mind the mistress as you would me. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean stands and dresses Sam in a T-shirt and tight camouflage pants. It’s time to change hotels, though it’s two days until they meet Dad, a hundred miles down the road. He packs out all their gear, tries to figure where they’ll stay tonight. He tucks a leather paddle into one of the boy’s pockets, and a small vibrator – one of the remote controlled bullets - into the other. Sam’s a little flushed, watching as Dean coils up the heavy leather leash in his own pocket. Outside, he reaches out of habit for the door handle of the Impala, and Dean smacks his butt for it, hard.

“Mind your manners,” he says, and Sam’s blushing. In the club, the dominatrix is pleased to see them, remembers them. It gives Dean a heady rush, and Sam’s walking on air. She gives Sam a little swat on the behind, telling him to behave, and it turns both of them on.

They wander, looking into the rooms, as they did before, and Dean wants to push Sam a little, so they go into a toy room. Dean finds a straight back chair, sits down, beckons the kid to stand at his side, and holds out his hand. The dominatrix is watching again. Sam flushes just slightly, and Dean realizes he’s confused. He remembers that he put a toy and a paddle in Sam’s pocket, and the kid’s probably worried he’s done something wrong. He drops his eyes to the right pocket, and before he’s even looked back up, the little vibe is in his hand. One tap to the button on the pants, and Sam drops them. Seconds later, he’s over Dean’s knee, feeling a caress on his bottom. He flexes into the touch, enough to show how much he enjoys it, but not enough to seem as if he’s straining.

Dean works for a few minutes with the lube, enjoying the soft feel of the boy’s skin. He’s even slower introducing the little bullet, and once he does, he swats Sam’s bottom sharply, pleased when he stands up immediately, facing Dean. Dean gives him a wolfish smile, then replaces the pants, switches the remote for the vibe on low, and walks out of the room. He comes about a millimeter from having to tug on the leash, and is proud when he doesn’t have to. The dominatrix watches with a slow smile.

They meander into another room, and here’s Sam’s chance to give Dean another one of those amazing blow jobs. He takes Sam on a slow circuit of the room, loving how Sam is intent on watching each person, knowing that he’s gonna be trying out some of what he’s seen. He’s not mistaken, either, and finds he’s hard pressed to hang on to the impending orgasm. He doesn’t have a clue how Sam finally figured it out, but the deep-throating? Yeah.

God, he’s so relaxed. Sam’s still looking intense, that’s not going to do. He tugs on the leash, and Sam turns to face him, earnest expression and all. Dean sits him down on a handy bench, stroking the boy’s hair, placing a careful kiss or two, enjoying the dazed look the attention produces.

“Anything you want to try, Sammy? Think about it for a minute.”

Sam’s eyes get a little distant, thoughtful, and Dean smiles indulgently. He loves that look. Then the kid blushes, and Dean tries not to laugh.

“What is it, Sam.”

“I… could I… Dean, could I maybe have a spanking?”

Oh my god. That was cute and hot at the same time, and if that isn’t twisted, Dean doesn’t quite know what is. He stands up and gives a sharp tug to the leash, which gets Sam hot and bothered.

“Dean,” the mistress purrs in his ear. “Follow me.” He does. She leads them onto a small stage, into a little theatre about 2/3 full. Sam balks a little here, looking a little scared, but it’s more thrill than fright. The mistress puts a hardback chair center stage for Dean – damn, but the woman is good – and takes the microphone.

“Now then. The art of the spanking. Too many people get bound up in the implements – really, a hand can be effective, as we’re about to see. Note how the pleasure of both is ensured.” She nods at Dean, and he gives her one of his patent, brilliant smiles. Oh, this is good. He repeats the earlier performance, tapping the button on Sam’s pants, and Sam complies with shaking fingers. Then he tips the kid over his lap. Sam’s positioning is perfect, hands on the floor, legs extended, toes flexed, dick hanging just between Dean’s spread legs, where it won’t rub. He lets his hand rest on Sam’s bottom for a moment in silent praise.

When he smacks his hand down for the first time, making Sam jump, the mistress pauses him. She points out the perfect handprint, lectures about Dean’s technique, before nodding at him to continue. Dean spanks, issuing a brief but heartwrenching lecture on what a naughty boy Sam is, eliciting a number of pained but excited yes, sirs from him. Finally, he asks Sam to count to twenty, and lays down those spanks harder, more varied in their speed. Sam’s voice breaks beautifully on twenty, and Dean sits the him upright in his lap.

“Is that what you needed, boy?”

“Yessir, thank you, sir,” comes the tearful voice, and Sam looks directly into his eyes, letting Dean know that he’s fine, though he’s still hard as a rock.

“There seems to be a problem here, though.”

“Sir?”

Dean clasps a hand around the boy’s cock, eases Sam over so that his bottom is hanging off of Dean’s lap. He makes sure Sam is holding on, and spanks him another half a dozen times, without letting go of the boy’s penis. Sam’s shoulders fold in as he comes, the jets of liquid reaching up to paint his face.

“That’s my boy,” he says fondly, and the mistress hands him a damp washcloth. He carefully cleans Sam off, and stands him up with a kiss. The audience applauds thunderously, and the blush on Sam’s face has Dean hard as a rock. The mistress thanks them, and escorts them off – Dean can hear a male voice introducing a new subject, as they exit.

She turns to them. “Samuel,” she says, and the kid blushes even more. Dean’s got to come up with a good reward for this one. “That was very well done, young man. I’d like to offer you and Dean a little thank-you. Would you like the use of a long term private room, for the remainder of your stay in the city? They’re separate from the club, in the old hotel.

Dean’s grin is blinding, and Sam’s stopped blushing to give the sweetest, shyest smile. “That would suit us just fine, ma’am,” the boy says, and Dean caresses his hair. A good job indeed – who’d have though Sam’s exhibitionist streak would pay off?


End file.
